Of Doctors, Aliens, and Music
by RavenHeart101
Summary: Jack's hiding in a small Ohio town, and the Doctor's hiding in a boarding school. Kurt, Blaine, Brittany, and Santana are just trying to sort out their lives. And then something goes wrong and they are forced to come together to figure out how to fix it.
1. Chapter 1

Of Doctors, Aliens, and Music

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who I'd be older. If I owned Torchwood I'd be richer. And if I owned Glee I wouldn't be on here.

Summary: Torchwood may be practically dead, but that doesn't mean that the aliens have stopped their descent on Earth. Jack's hiding in a small Ohio town, working at a local garage. The Doctor's randomly transported to a boarding school. Kurt's trying to get through his sophomore year of high school. Blaine's trying to get used to Dalton. Santana's trying to sort out her feelings. Brittany's trying to understand life. And then something goes wrong and they are forced to come together to figure out how to fix it. Somethings may be more permanent than others.

A: N – I have no life so I decided to write a Doctor Who, Torchwood and Glee crossover. Enjoy my readers. Takes place after Torchwood's end, during season one of Glee, and features the Tenth Doctor. This is for my lovely cousin who is very much enamored with all three shows.

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><p>"<em>We're not gonna be<br>Just apart of their game  
>We're not gonna be<br>Just the victims..."_

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><p>Captain Jack Harkness had been working at Hummel Tires and Lube for a good week before he met his boss's son. He had heard Burt speak highly of the boy in the short amount of time he had made a residence in Lima, Ohio but he had never once laid eyes on the boy. He had heard from the other workers that the boy was great with cars and that he had a major talent when it came to singing. He had heard that the boy had an eye for fashion and was so full of snark it was remarkable he hadn't exploded at the seams. The boy was very much loved.<p>

So Jack had pictured this tall, teenage brute who was smart and maybe, just maybe, a bit mean. He had pictured someone who looked like Burt. Someone who wore flannel (maybe too much flannel) and a baseball cap. Therefore, the first time he saw Kurt Hummel he had no idea who he was speaking to. Or what someone who looked like that was doing in Hummel Tires and Lube. He looked out of place. He looked horribly small and... very much like a little child. Something in Jack went out to the boy that day.

His blue eyes had sparkled a bit when he had walked into the place. Jack supposed he should have found it a bit weird that the boy knew his way around the garage better than almost anyone, but he had just shrugged it off until the boy had moved to go into the back room. He had motioned to stop him until the kid opened up his mouth and called "Dad!" That stopped him short. He studied the boy with a small amount of shock from behind the old car engine he was tweaking with as Burt Hummel exited his office to give the boy who looked a little too young to his son a very wide (and genuine) smile.

It was something that Jack had never seen on his boss's face unless he was talking about his kid. But that didn't mean that his boy was _his _kid. He didn't look very much like Burt Hummel anyway.

He was proven wrong not to long after that. Kurt Hummel didn't look like Jack had expected him to look, but he acted almost exactly as everyone informed Jack that he would. He had spunk (the same sort Ianto used to have sometimes) and he was always chattering about some musical or fashion trend or something about his school or his friend Mercedes. He had barely ever talked to Jack in the amount of time he knew him, but he was almost like a permanent fixture at the garage and Jack was starting to realize that the boy was beginning to spike his curiosity more than he would have expected. "Good evening Jack!" Nor was when they boy had actually started talking to him.

Jack looked up from the car he had been working on and raised an eyebrow at the elegantly dressed boy. He certainly didn't sound as though it had been a 'good evening'. "Hiya Kurt." He noticed the boy's blush staining his cheeks when Jack sent a full blown smile his way. Jack's eyes sparkled for a moment before dulling. What were the chances that this boy had ever met a man who was actually 100% okay with not only who he was, but with who Kurt was? Most men in this garage certainly were (and he was pretty sure Burt had mentioned something about a woman named Carole and her son) but they definitely were not as handsome as he was. Not to sound vain or anything like that. "Doesn't sound like you had a good evening."

Kurt avoided his question by poking his head around the door leading into the back office. "Do you know where my dad is?"

Jack frowned. He was the only one working today. Burt had mentioned watching a game with Carole and her son, and Jack was pretty sure Kurt had known... "He's out."

Kurt stared at him for a second, his blue eyes asking a question before realization overcame his porcelain features. "Carole." Jack nodded lightly, going back to what he was doing with the Cadillac in front of him. He heard a sigh and something that sounded suspiciously like a bag drop onto the linoleum floor. Raising his eyes he saw the teenager slumped down in one of the waiting chairs with his head resting in his hand. His hair was being mused, and, from what Jack had seen in the few weeks he knew Kurt, he hated having his hair messy.

"What's wrong?" He was more curious than concerned. Jack figured that it had to be something pretty bad for the boy to willingly mess up his hair and Kurt looked a little lost.

He glanced up at Jack through his dark eye lashes, his blue eyes looking at him calculatingly. "Why do you care?"

His voice was cautious and Jack had to wonder if the boy was actually willing to tell him. He was almost shocked until he remembered that Jack had always managed to get people to tell him what was on their minds. He had a way about him that tended to have people trust him. "You look like you need someone to talk to is all." He wiped his hands with the rag that had been laying on the car's side mirror.

Kurt stared at him for a moment before giving him a small smile. "It's just... Some guy is going to get rid of Glee."

From what Jack had heard this was a weekly occurrence. "Doesn't that happen a lot?"

"Well yes... But Bryan Ryan is different than Miss Sylvester." Kurt sighed, sitting forward in his seat a bit and resting his elbow on his knee. "He could actually single-handedly dismantle New Directions."

"Ah." Jack said knowingly, smiling lightly at the boy. "But that's not your whole reason for acting like a deflated balloon is it?"

Kurt shot a look at him. "No." He said evenly, meeting Jack's eyes with his head on. There was a challenge in them. Jack found himself challenging back. Kurt broke eye contact first, looking down at his shoes as the scuffed against the floor. "Finn's better than me."

Ah, the real problem. Jack almost smiled in pride at the fact that he got it out of Kurt Hummel before he began wondering who this Finn guy was. "Finn?"

"Carole's son." Kurt supplied with a note of over dramatic depression in his unique voice. "Dad can take him to sports games and Finn won't complain. They can do guy things. They can talk about girls and eat disgustingly greasy foods and-"

"Your dad loves you, you know that right?" Kurt looked him for a second before dropping his eyes again and pulling his bag back onto his shoulder. "Kurt!" He called after the boy as he made his way out of the garage and back into the bright Ohio sunlight. The youngest Hummel turned back to look at Jack, a question on his face. "Your dad really does love you. Give him more credit. Burt never stops talking about you."

Kurt just smiled at him, mouthed out a 'thank you' and left.

Jack looked back down at the car in front of him. Maybe he should tell Burt about this. He sighed, coughing into his elbow. He would whenever he saw his boss for more than two seconds.

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><p>Santana Lopez ruled William McKinley High School ever since Quinn had gotten knocked up by Puckerman (or Hudson, although Santana knew for a fact that it wasn't Hudson. They guy lost his virginity to her a few weeks ago). She strutted down the hallway with her hands on her hips, her pony tail swinging behind her gently as she made her way towards her and Brittany's lockers. The blonde girl was already there, talking to Hummel with a bright smile on her face. She scowled for a moment as she saw Brittany reach out to hug him in goodbye before she smiled brightly at her. "Hi San!" She said happily, immediately reaching over to link her pinky with Santana's.<p>

"Hey Britt." She greeted the other girl with a kind smile as she flicked open her locker and extracted her jacket from inside of the red piece of metal.

"Mom and dad want you to come over tonight." Brittany said simply, leaning against her locker and twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "They're going out for their birthdays and they don't want me home alone."

"Anniversary Britt." Santana corrected her gently, relinking their pinkies with a small, self satisfied smile. "But I'm sure I'll be able to be there."

"Yay!" Brittany jumped on her in a hug when they made it into the choir room. Most of the other members were there already. Hudson was sitting beside Man Hands with a large smile on his face. Quinn was sitting beside Puckerman, the two of them arguing about something again. Tina was present, sitting beside Artie and holding his hand. Mike and Matt were talking about some video game. The only two missing were Mercedes and Hummel. Santana briefly took a moment to wonder where they were before she collapsed into the seat as far away from Man Hands as she could get with Brittany beside her. Quinn was giving her a dirty look for second, but she didn't take the time to wonder why. Puckerman was probably telling her all about how much he missed her dirty texts.

Santana smirked, turning around to listen to Brittany ramble about how Charity had crashed her new car and how she needed to find her a new one. Sometimes she worried about Brittany. "Boy you are insane!" She looked up to see Mercedes pulling a winded looking Hummel into the room with a boisterous laugh. The two sat in front of them. As usual, Mister Schue was late. He was probably playing tonsil hockey with Miss Pillsbury or something as equally vomit worthy.

"I'm just saying, Mercedes! It seems-"

"No you don't Kurt. Your father _adores_ you." She stressed. "Him suddenly dating Mrs Hudson – and may I remind you who set them up – and getting to spend some guy time with Finn isn't going to change that." She heard the indignant snort as Hummel leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before turning back to what Brittany was saying. People like Hummel were always blowing things out of proportion.

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><p>"I've been traveling on this road too long. Just trying to find my way back home." He sang quietly under his breath as he made his way back to his dorm, his books weighing down his uniform clad arms. He had hid out in the library for as long as he could, trying to avoid the masses. Dalton was different than Westerville High, he knew that, but that didn't mean that he believed it. So far everything about Dalton had been too good to be true. He had been in attendance at the private school for a few weeks now, but he still had yet to really make many friends. That wasn't to say that he was antisocial. If Blaine Anderson knew how to do anything it was avoid being the center of attention.<p>

"The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone. And oh!" He continued quietly, pushing his way down the nearly empty hallway. He walked by the other boys without meeting any of their eyes. None of them bothered to pay him any mind. And by the time they had made it two doors away from him they would have no idea that he had even passed them. He held his books tighter when he felt someone jolt into his shoulder.

"Sorry mate." That must have been what caused him to break his own rule. Blaine raised his eyes almost cautiously to meet those of the person he had walked into.

He didn't look like any of the students. To be honest he didn't look like anyone that Blaine had ever seen before. The suit made him look like a teacher, but the shoes (a pair of ratty old converse) dispelled that idea pretty quickly. "I-it's okay." He said in shock. The man smiled at him, his teeth glinting and... well Blaine should have been more freaked out than he was. For all he knew the man was some sort of child predator.

"Would you happen to know where I am?" The man asked, falling into step beside him. His smile never disappeared.

Blaine's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Dal-_What?_" He stopped abruptly. Fear began to pick at his spine.

The man looked at him in confusion. "Well the last time I was in was 1963-" Blaine let out a strangled sort of noise from the back of his throat, his hazel eyes wide. "Are you all right? You don't look too good." He made a move to get closer to him and Blaine flinched back. Oh shit this man was a predator. He opened his mouth to scream, only to be stopped by the man's hand covering it firmly. "Oh please don't scream. I haven't properly introduced myself. Hello! My name's The Doctor."

The Doctor? The Doctor of what? Creeping up on high school children and then attacking them? Blaine thought he had escaped these sort of attacks when he left Westerville High. "The Doctor of what?" He croaked out from behind the man's hand.

"The Doctor of what, I bet you're wondering. Well... it's a little hard to explain. But, let me start by telling you that I am not here to harm you. You see my space ship broke and brought me here where I literally ran into you." He explained with a bright smile.

So he was an insane asylum escapee who was a predator... That didn't calm Blaine's nerves like the man had been hoping it would. He made another strangled noise and tried to break out of the man's grasp. "Promise you won't scream and I will let you go." He said pleadingly. He nodded fiercely, jerking out of the man's hold the moment the grip was relaxed. "Good." The Doctor smiled pleasantly at him, his hand reaching up to run through his already messed up brown hair. His eyes twinkled. "So, where am I exactly?"

Blaine let out another strangled noise and hit him hard in the stomach with his Chemistry book. With a gasp he ran down the hall and into the dorm he shared with David Hughes. He leaned against the door heavily, sliding down the door so that he was sitting on the floor and catching his breath. "Blaine... Are you okay?" David asked cautiously from his bed to the right of him.

"Ugh." He said simply, his head falling back to bang on the door.

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><p><strong>S<strong>o... uh... does anyone want to read more?


	2. Chapter 2

Of Doctors, Aliens, and Music

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who I'd be older. If I owned Torchwood I'd be richer. And if I owned Glee I wouldn't be on here. If I owned (or was a part of) Simple Plan I would... suddenly have switched genders.

Summary: Torchwood may be practically dead, but that doesn't mean that the aliens have stopped their descent on Earth. Jack's hiding in a small Ohio town, working at a local garage. The Doctor's randomly transported to a boarding school. Kurt's trying to get through his sophomore year of high school. Blaine's trying to get used to Dalton. Santana's trying to sort out her feelings. Brittany's trying to understand life. And then something goes wrong and they are forced to come together to figure out how to fix it. Somethings may be more permanent than others.

A: N – Yay I actually got reviews! Thank you all so much! Oh, and because I totally forgot to add this with the last chapter, this story is going to largely feature both Klaine and Brittana (which is first for me, because I've never written femslash).

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><p>"<em>...They're taking our dreams<br>And they tear them apart  
>'til everyone's the same ..."<em>

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><p>Santana sighed, leaning back in the plastic chair in McKinley High's choir room. It was boring today. After the whole "Pink Houses" incident Brittany had left her to go hang out with Hummel. Which, you know, wouldn't have been a problem if she hadn't ditched Puckerman thinking that she would take Brittany out for a celebratory "Man Hands Has No Voice" dinner. But, instead, she had been ditched for Hummel. She sighed again, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest and let her head dip lightly to stare at the floor. It wasn't like she cared. She just missed hanging out with Brittany. It was almost like the blonde always had someone else to hang out with. Was she not good enough for her...? Santana shook that thought away with a scowl, pulling herself, and her bag, out of the plastic chair. That would be absurd to think of!<p>

She glared at the other students when she passed them, many of them scrambling out of the way of the vicious daggers shooting from her dark eyes. Santana couldn't really give a reason as to why she was so angry, but she was. And it had something to do with Hummel and damn it that boy was definitely going to get his ass handed to him today!

She grumbled under her breath, plotting the best way to get rid of his presence with Brittany until she paused. Music was blasting rather loudly from the auditorium, and, as she pushed open the doors to see what it was, it was a rather Kurt Hummel-ified _Kurt Hummel_ singing his freaking _lungs_ out.

Damn. Santana had known he was talented, but, judging by the fact that he had blown the damn note in Defying Gravity she had never really thought he was all that much. Which was a pretty stupid thing for her to think. Especially after the whole 4 Minutes fiasco with Coach Sylvester.

But, anyway, she paused. And she watched and she thought "Damn this kid is even more screwed up than I am" because he was singing about all his hatred towards Rachel Berry – Man Hands – and how he was pretty much pissed off at – or extremely hurt – but something that his father was doing – or had done. When he was finished and gasping for breath – and it looked as though Hummel was going to burst into tears or punch something – and she was preparing herself for the emotional talk she was going to have to waste her time having clapping broke through the auditorium. She knew who Burt Hummel was, and the man standing at the edge of the stage was _Burt Hummel_. She quickly exited the auditorium. No way in hell was Santana going to intrude on something as personal as whatever was about to go down with Hummel and his father.

As she left the school Santana had finally managed to successfully convince herself that everything was okay. But there was this nagging in the back of her mind that things were seriously just starting to be screwed up.

Her phone vibrated against her leg and she answered it on the second ring. "Hey San!" Brittany's very much welcomed voice said cheerfully into her ear.

"Hey Britt. Weren't you hanging with Hummel today?" She answered with a small smile.

"Nope! He said that he had something else to do, but I think he just wanted to be alone. He looked really sad." Brittany sounded sad for a moment and Santana had to wonder just how the girl could easily pick up on others emotions and yet she didn't know what two plus two was. Brittany would forever be a mystery to her. "Do you want to hang out?"

"Sure, Britts." She climbed into her car, swinging her bag over to the passenger's seat. She started her car with a smile. If there was one person she could always rely on it was Brittany.

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><p>The Civil War was possibly one of the subjects that Blaine had gotten tired of learning about the third time he was taught it. And yet, here he was, hiding out in his dorm, the chords to the acoustic version of Knock You Down he was trying to master playing in his ears with his history book propped up on his knees and reading through his text on the Civil War. History wasn't his worst subject – that was chemistry – but he was pretty sure his history teacher hated him. Mister Yates hadn't exactly done anything to prove his suspicions, but the scholarly man was always <em>staring<em> at him. And it was unnerving in a way that all the bullying had yet to over do.

If Blaine was to be completely honest he would have taken that weird Doctor guy over Mister Yates any day. He squinted his eyes and flicked a curl out of his eyes. He didn't fit in here at all.

Blaine Anderson was nerd. A complete and utter nerd. Math was his favorite subject in the world, he could quote countless old movies from Breakfast at Tiffany's to Singing In the Rain, he wrote music in his spare time, and he read Vogue whenever he was out getting coffee (which was a lot more now that he was at Dalton and away from home). The boys at Dalton weren't like him at all. He didn't fit into just one category. Where his roommate, David, was both an English freak and a musical genius, Blaine was both mediocre in such things (and he refused to let anyone hear him sing or play music). Gregory from his chemistry class was obsessed with everything science fiction. There were many more examples of exactly _what Blaine wasn't_ and absolutely none for _what Blaine was_.

But, anyway, back to his original dilemma. He was pretty sure Mister Yates hated his guts, and if he didn't pass this test on the Civil War he could kiss Dalton goodbye. It wasn't as though he was there on a scholarship (his family was _beyond _set for life), but he was pretty sure his father only agreed to send him to Dalton in the first place because he was sure Blaine could handle the work load. And he had had more than enough time to get used to the school in the last three weeks he had been there.

He sighed and pulled eyes away from the offending text in front of him, instead choosing to gaze up at the open window. The breeze from outside ran from outside through his room, taking care to muse his already mused curly mess that he liked to call hair. He blinked as a figure clad in a suit ran across the grass. Was that...? He pushed his thing to the side, unplugging his ipod from his ears and stuffing it in his pocket and scrambling to look out the window. Yes... it was Mister Yates! The usually well kept man looked absolutely terrified as a swarm of _something_ flew at him. Blaine stared, horror written across his face as the thing entered in through every visible hole in his teacher's body.

When all of the thing was fully inside of him Mister Yates' originally brown eyes were bright yellow. And they were staring _straight at him_.

He may have squealed, but he managed to hold in a scream until the door leading into his dorm was actually kicked open. The Doctor from the week before stood in the doorway with an almost scared look on his face. A short (well the same height as him) and blonde girl stood behind him. "Doctor!" She had a British accent too. Blaine would have taken the time to marvel at that if he wasn't too creeped out to do much more besides scream and bob his mouth up and down like a fish out of water. "You can't just kick open a door like that-!"

"Hello again!" The Doctor said cheerfully, his hand reaching out to grab Blaine by the arm. The boy stumbled over his books as he yanked – forcefully- out of his dorm room. "Run." He was pulled down the filled hallway of the dorm rooms. Boys took time to stare at the odd trio, some of them jumping out of the way to avoid being hit. Blaine was pulled down the hall and out of the dorm building, the green scenery and the scholarly backdrop made the three look even more out of place as their feet all but skimmed the ground in the hasty run. His hair bounced on and off his head with each step that his new converse with a painted on British flag took. He tripped once or twice, but the blonde girl had steadied him with each stumble.

"Stop them!" Well now Blaine felt as though he was in some sort of weird and corny science fiction movie, but he wasn't stupid and he kept on running. He wasn't sure which person he was more afraid of (if he took the time to stop and think about it). It was either this Doctor man and his blonde companion, or Mister Yates the history teacher that just had some weird black _something_ possess his body. Both options were full of things that Blaine didn't want to think about. He felt his pure white sleeve catch on something. With his eyes closed he prayed that his sleeve had simply caught on a branch, but when he felt the flexing of fingers it struck him that it very much _was not_ a branch.

It was David Hughes that held his arm tight in his hand, and his Asian friend (Wesley Stein) was standing beside him with a questionable look on his face. "Sir?" David asked slowly. But he didn't sound like David. Blaine hadn't exactly gotten to know his roommate, but, out of everyone _in_ Dalton he was pretty sure he knew David the best. And David was not acting like David.

Mister Yates was jogging towards them, and people were staring and Blaine hated it when people stared but he was even more scared of the yellow tinge in the history teacher's eyes. And then the sun hit David's eyes at the perfect angle (and some distant part in his mind noted how it would have made the perfect picture) and there was a yellow tinge there too. With desperation he looked back at the Doctor and the blonde girl, both of them turning back to run towards him again. The Doctor took something out of his pocket (small and compact and he was banging it against his hand in what seemed like frustration). "It doesn't work! Why does it _never_ work when I need it to?"

Blaine would have waited, but Mister Yates was getting closer and closer with each second. With a small cry of panic he ordered his mind to make his foot kick out. To make his hand move, his elbow fly into David's stomach, but nothing worked. It was just like with the bullies. He was too scared to do much else beside stare with his hazel eyes wide. Fear left him paralyzed, thousands of scenarios soaring through his mind, rendering him helpless. Shoves, taunts, blades, guns, death threats. He was supposed to be safer here. _He was supposed to be safer - _"Can I have him?" The Doctor asked politely. David simply stared at him, his face unemotional – expressionless. "Okay than." An elbow connected violently with his roommate's face and then he was being pulled away again.

A sharp growl sounded from behind them, but Blaine took no time to dwell on exactly what it was before he pulled into the school's main room. And then into a bright blue police box. He would have taken a moment to wonder how exactly they would all fit in here, but everything happened so fast. In a blink of an eye the doors were closed and he had the feeling that he had just hit the peak of a rollercoaster. His stomach dropped and his head spun. "Wha - who are you?"

"The Doctor!"

The blonde girl smiled widely at her, her white teeth glittering. "I'm Rose. Tyler. Rose Tyler." She reached over to shake his hand and, limply, he allowed her to take it in her own delicate one. "And you are?"

"B-Blaine Ander... son..." He trailed off, finally coming to a realization as to where exactly he was. It was yellow, gold mixed with bronze. There were a ton of crisscrossing veins falling from the roof to the floor. A big, bright turquoise blue statue situated itself in the middle of the room – was it really a room? - and a computer like system stood in the corner. The Doctor was resting his foot on the big turquoise thing, typing at a faster rate than he expected, and muttering gibberish under his breath.

Just where the hell was he?

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><p>Jack slumped against the counter, his elbows getting stained by the left over grease. He felt his head fall forward, to rest gently in the crook of his elbow. His forehead was stained with dark sweat and his eyes were heavy. If he closed his eyes he could imagine that he was back in Ianto's apartment. With him bustling around the room, the pots and pans banging and clanging and filling the room with much needed sound. He could imagine the familiar and homely smells, the calm and relaxed feeling. A small, serene smile pulled at his lips. It was home.<p>

A bang bounded through the garage. His head snapped up, jerking back into the cold, hard pain of reality. His soul dropped, and there was no inkling of happiness that could have brought it back up. Well maybe nothing. Jack wasn't so sure anymore. Ohio could start to feel like home. "Jack!" Kurt. A small smile crossed his lips. Now Kurt Hummel was someone that he hadn't figured out. Burt he knew by heart. He looked all tough and scary, but he was really just the stereotypical big teddy bear. That didn't mean that he wasn't tough and scary, Burt was damn protective of Kurt. He had threatened more than one person when they had dared show up at the shop (or call the shop) and complain about his "fag" of a son. "_Jack_!"

He sympathized with Kurt. The boy reminded him of his brother at times, or maybe even of himself. "Hey kid." He greeted him with a kind and easy smile. He forced his body to ignore the creeping tiredness that was wearing him down and, instead, focused on the teenager before him. He was out of the flannel and back into the perfectly picked out fashionable outfits. Jack was happy to see that. "No more flannel?" He inserted anguish in his voice.

But the sassy boy didn't pay the teasing any mind. His blue eyes glittered as tears almost pulled themselves out of his eyes. "Kurt...? What's going on?"

The boy hissed in a breath. "My dad loves me right?" His voice was higher than usual. It shook with heartbreak and a single tear pulled itself down a familiar pathway down his porcelain cheek.

"Yeah Kurt. Burt loves you more than you'd think. He always talks about you-" He was cut off when the boy practically pounced on him. Jack hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected a desperate hug. He hadn't expected the anguished sobs and the tears staining his shirt. "What's going on?"

"He's gone." He felt the words whisper against his neck.

"Who's gone?"

"He's gone." Kurt chocked on his words. "He's gone just like mom and he said that he wasn't coming back and he said it was my fault and... he wasn't my dad. No one will believe me but it wasn't him. It wasn't him."

"I believe you." Jack didn't know why he believed it, but he did. He believed the sobbing teenager. Burt wouldn't have just left. He loved his son too much to just leave. "I believe you."

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><p><strong>T<strong>hank you all so much for reviewing! To be honest I didn't expect three reviews, let alone SEVEN. I am ecstatic. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much it means. -Hugs-


	3. Chapter 3

Of Doctors, Aliens, and Music

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who I'd be older. If I owned Torchwood I'd be richer. And if I owned Glee I wouldn't be on here. If I owned (or was a part of) Simple Plan I would... suddenly have switched genders.

Summary: Torchwood may be practically dead, but that doesn't mean that the aliens have stopped their descent on Earth. Jack's hiding in a small Ohio town, working at a local garage. The Doctor's randomly transported to a boarding school. Kurt's trying to get through his sophomore year of high school. Blaine's trying to get used to Dalton. Santana's trying to sort out her feelings. Brittany's trying to understand life. And then something goes wrong and they are forced to come together to figure out how to fix it. Somethings may be more permanent than others.

A: N – Yay for four reviews! After getting seven for the first chapter only four is slightly depressing. But better than nothing, ne? Thanks the people who reviewed!

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><p>"<em>...I've got no place to go<br>I've got no where to run  
>They love to watch me fall<br>They think they know it all..."_

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><p>Kurt pushed the door leading into his house open with a small smile. Glee club had managed to avoid being dismantled yet again and him and his father had made up the day before. He discreetly wiped his hands on his pants, wincing when the left over grease from the oil that he had just put in his car rubbed onto the denim. He raised an eyebrow at the quiet that had enveloped the Hummel house. Not that it was usually loud, it was usually quiet it just being him and his father, but the television was usually on. It wasn't on this time.<p>

Sounds that seemed suspiciously like frustrated mutterings fluttered into the room. Kurt couldn't make out what they were saying, but he knew that it was his father's voice. Curiosity began to overwhelm him as he pulled himself out of the hallway and into the living room. No one was there, but the cabinets and cushions were pulled out and opened. DVD cases were open and the discs were smashed on the rug covered ground. The television was haphazardly leaning against the wall behind it, precariously perched on it's edge and close to falling over. "Dad?" Kurt croaked, clearing his throat when it came out impossibly small. "Dad?" He called again. The mutterings ceased and the hair on the back of Kurt's neck stood up on end. "Dad? Are you okay?"

There was a grunt of acknowledgment as Kurt neared the kitchen. It was dark inside, which didn't correspond well with the bright weather outside at all. He shivered, suddenly wishing that he kept on his jacket. "Are you okay?" Kurt braved speaking again, he shuddered at the vacant look in his father's familiar sea green eyes.

"What's your name?" Kurt stumbled back at the abruptness of the question, at the harshness that invaded the voice that had always been kind to him.

He swallowed. "Dad... It's me. It's Kurt-"

"What is your name you petulant waste of space!" He visually snapped back at his father's inhumane growl. His brain was scattered, working for a way to successfully understand what was going on.

His father – was it really his father? He didn't seem like the Burt Hummel that Kurt had grown up around - sent an unlikely sneer of anger and frustration in his direction. He stuttered back a few steps until his back was to the living room. "Da-Kurt." He hastily said as the man growled at him. "Kurt Hummel. Your son-"

"I have no son. And I want you out of my house." Shocked silence. His brain was frozen in shock. Did... was this really happening?

"Dad..." His voice shook.

"I said. Get. Out." Burt – this wasn't his father anymore – loomed over him as Kurt's back pressed into the back of the couch.

Tears prickled at his eyes as his throat clenched and unclenched in an effort to keep from sobbing out loudly. "Th-this is my house dad."

"Who is that?" The man had the decency to look confused for a moment.

Kurt's blue eyes stayed wide as he stared up at his father. Maybe his father was pulling a joke on him... maybe this was all just one horrible – sincerely cruel – joke. For the first time in a long time the boy found himself unconsciously praying for help. "What?"

Burt looked around himself in alarm, and he took quick steps away from Kurt, his sea green eyes wide with angry fear. "Where am I?" He grunted out. "Who are you? Where's my wife?"

"What...? Dad this isn't funny-!" A fist slammed into his forehead with remarkable strength. Kurt snapped back, his body almost flinging itself over the couch he had been cowering against. Tears leaked out of his eyes as Burt's angry body loomed over his.

"Where is she? Where is my wife? What have you done to her?" Had his father been drinking? But that made no sense! Burt had drank before (had even been drunk before) around Kurt and he had never acted like this. His father was a funny drunk. He was one of those guys who would be smiling the whole time and laughing when he fell down the stairs. This wasn't his father. This wasn't the kind bighearted man that Kurt had run to when there were thunderstorms when he was younger, this wasn't the man that held him in his large, warm embrace when his mother died, and this was not the man that silently offered him comfort before Kurt had even told him that he was gay. "If she's dead this is your fault!" He ran out of the house, anger remarkably covering his face more than Kurt had ever seen it.

He swallowed the will to stay on the floor of the house, pushing himself up and after his father. "Dad!"

"I don't know who you are!" Burt pushed him back roughly, something a kin to accomplishment overwhelming his face as his son fell back into the house, his arm slamming against the door frame. "This is all your fault!" _It's not your fault, kiddo. Don't let anyone tell you that it is._ "If she's dead than it's all your fault!" He stared vacantly as his father ran down the street, his gray work shirt flitting around the muscles in his back. A few curious neighbors stuck their heads out of their windows but Kurt couldn't bring himself to pay them any mind until the police and ambulance officials made themselves known by the obnoxious blue and red flashing lights. The sirens seemed far off even when they were right in front of him. His eyes stared with no emotion as his brain tried to work out exactly what was going on. But there was nothing. There was absolutely nothing. The only thing he could come up with was that the man that had run down the street wasn't his father.

"You okay, son?" A gruff voice asked from his left. Kurt flinched back as the man leaned closer, his golden police badge causing a headache to painfully strike in his head. "What's his name?"

"Kurt." He didn't pay attention to who was talking, but he recognized the voice as the woman who lived across the street. He didn't know why she had bothered to answer, she never liked him even since he chewed out her children on their horrible treatment of their animals. "Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt? Kurt can you hear me?"_ That wasn't his father._ "Kurt? I think he's in shock." No... not shock. He was just... shocked? Okay so maybe he was in shock. But he wasn't stupid enough to not know what they were saying. "Okay son." He wasn't their son, so it would do them some good to stop calling him that. A bright light shone in his eyes, glinting against the police badge and shinning into his eyes even harsher than before. He jerked his head away from the light and into someone's firm chest behind him. "Hey there. Can you hear me Kurt?"

He nodded slowly, tearing his eyes away from the man's badge and looking up into his face. It wasn't a kind face, then again Kurt wasn't sure if he would be able to see anyone's face as a kind face after what his father - after what that thing who was definitely not his father did to him. "Can you tell me what happened?" He asked softly, trying to make his voice as kind and gentle as it could go.

"That wasn't my father."

"What do you mean son?"

"That wasn't him." He knew he was talking fast, so he tried to slow himself down. Tried to calm himself down as his hand shakily wiped across his cheek, his tender flesh screaming under his hand. "It wasn't my dad."

* * *

><p>"So..." The Doctor opened his arms wide, his face splitting into a wide smile. His hair fell haphazardly into his eyes as he eagerly looked over at Blaine as the blonde girl – Rose – kicked her feet from her seat on the... computer console glowing thing. "What do you think? Cool, eh?"<p>

He wouldn't say cool. To be honest, Blaine wasn't so sure that this wasn't a dream. All of this was so... certifiably insane. Even for him. Subtly, his fingers pinched his arm. He flinched violently when the pain flared, yet he stayed in the old blue police box that was bigger on the inside than the outside. "Wh-where am I?" He stuttered out, blinking almost tiredly as the Doctor twirled around him.

"The TARDIS."

"The tar-"

"Stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space." Blaine blinked and Rose seemed to take pity on him. She jumped off the computer console thing and trotted over to him with a wide smile.

"It's a space ship." She said easily, hoping to ease some of his confusion.

He pinched himself again, willing himself to wake up as the insanity continued. This could not be happening. "A space ship... Okay..." He muttered, his brain racing to make sense of anything that was going on. Blaine heaved in a deep breath, ignoring how his body swayed a bit from unexcused dizziness. He could deal with this. This surly wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to him. His history teacher had just ingested some black cloud and had glowing yellow eyes. If he wasn't absolutely certain that it was a television show, Blaine would be more apt to believe that he was in Supernatural and was about to be pinned to the roof of his house and attacked by fire. Although he didn't have a six month old child so that wouldn't work at all.

"Are you okay?" Rose's voice was concerned as he fell back heavily against the police box's wall and slid down it heavily. He threw his head into his knees, hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat and pushing its way passed his trembling, chapped lips.

"Not okay." The Doctor said helpfully.

"Freaking out, to be honest." He replied with another bubble of laughter.

"I think you're the first person to do that." The Doctor paused, taking in Rose's incredulous look. "Well the first person to do it so... obviously."

Rose rolled her eyes at him, a happy smile tugging at her lips before she turned back to Blaine, her eyes concerned. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you."

That was an incredibly awkward thing to say but Blaine figured he should probably just roll with whatever was happening anyway. It wasn't as though any of it was real. He would wake up in a few hours and be in the Dalton regulation bed and David would chastise him lightly about missing class and then go off to Warblers practice and Blaine would finish his history essay. That's what would happen. That's what would have to happen. He wouldn't settle for anything else. He cleared his throat. "So... we're in a space ship?"

The Doctor visibly brightened, a happy glint overtaking his features. "A Time and Relative Dimensions in Space machine."

Blaine blinked in confusion. "So it's a time machine?"

"A Time and Relative Dimensions in Space machine."

"A time and space machine...?" He looked at Rose for confirmation, looking at her with gratefulness as she nodded lightly.

"It's a lot to take in." She patted his arm lightly before pushing herself up to a standing position and walking over to the Doctor. "Where to, Doctor?"

His smile never left his face. Blaine wondered for a moment if the guy was on some type of drugs before reminding himself that he was in the middle of some weird dream and he was rolling with it. Whether it made sense or not. "Well we have to get Blair here to safety before we can exterminate those nasty Grimers. Horrible little bug creatures that suck all of the sodium out of their hosts and then create their own body from it." He said as a sort of explanation to the teenager still sitting, stunned, on the floor. "So... any place you _really_ want to go to?"

"Blaine." He corrected shortly.

"What?" The Doctor turned around to look at him in confusion.

"My name's Blaine. Not Blair..."

"Oh... could have sworn it was Blair." The Doctor shrugged, smiling at Rose brightly before turning back to the console. "So, Blake, where do you want to go?"

"Sanity Central." He muttered back, glaring at the man as he pranced around the large area. Rose laughed. He wasn't sure if it was because of him or because of the Doctor, but he really wasn't sure if he cared. "My name is _Blaine_." He stressed, ignoring Rose's amused look.

He had had enough of the whole "name forgetting" at Westerville High. He didn't need someone like The Doctor to screw with him too. "Oh course, Blaine. Isn't that what I said?" The Doctor looked genuinely confused for a moment before he turned back into his chipper self. "So... where do you want to go?"

He sighed, leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretching out in front of him. "Home." He whispered, staring vacantly up at the ceiling above him. He ignored Rose's frown and the look in the Doctor's eyes. He wasn't damaged. He didn't need their pity.

"Home it is then." A few cranks and whirs and the entire "ship" shook. Blaine blinked up at the roof, willing his stomach to stop churning. The Doctor let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat and ran around to the other side of the "ship" before stopping back in front of the console, something that looked suspiciously like a screwdriver glowing in his hand as he muttered quickly. "Oh no." His voice held a panicked resignation that Blaine was only too familiar with from his own times from high school. "That's not good."

"What's not good Doctor?" Rose's accented voice asked with a tinge of worry. She smiled at him reassuringly when the Doctor made no motion to answer, instead opting to run around the place like a maniac with a glowing screwdriver. "Happens all the time." And how that was supposed to make him feel better was beyond him. Blaine pushed himself up with a trembling hand, reaching out to smooth down his crisp white shirt. The Doctor stopped and stared at him.

"What?" He asked uneasily as the man's eyes surveyed him for a long moment.

He shook his head, breaking himself out of his stupor for a moment before he looked back down at the flashing console. "Well... I couldn't get you home, but I did get you away from the Grimers." He said with an overly cheery voice. Blaine frowned, wringing his hands as Rose looked over the Doctor's shoulder in curiosity.

"Lima?" She asked in confusion. "Where's Lima?"

"Ohio." The Doctor said simply.

_Lima, Ohio._ Nearly two hours away from Westerville, Ohio and a world away from Dalton Academy for Boys. Blaine had only been there once before, when his father was running for Senator (which he got) and he had been mortified by the amount of times he had heard insults thrown casually around the small town. It wasn't as though the same insults hadn't been thrown around Westerville, but, for some reason, the ones in Lima were thrown not as casual; the insults seemed forced. Almost as though the people saying them were trying to prove that they could say them. He broke himself out of his reverie. "Why Lima?" Rose was asking and the Doctor shrugged helplessly.

"She couldn't bring us any farther it seems." Or closer, Blaine felt like pointing out. He was pretty sure he lived only twenty minutes away from Dalton on a bad day. "I don't know why..." The Doctor trailed off, worry covering both faces of the elder people in the machine. In a moment that worry was gone though, replaced with the ever present smile that Blaine was quick to realize was a mask of some sort. Something that was hopefully dazzling enough to not have him ask questions. He frowned, huddling closer to himself, his arms crossing protectively over his chest. "Well! Let's see where we are, eh?"

He strolled over to the door, pushing it open with a bright smile. "Doctor?" Blaine blinked. In front of them stood an auto shop, a tall (handsome... really, really handsome) man staring at them in shock. Another, younger, teenage boy stood behind him, fear clouding his red rimmed blue eyes. A stunning blue that almost knocked Blaine off his feet. He was shaking as he wiped a hand under his eyes, gripping the other man's sleeve tightly.

"Jack?" The Doctor's voice held something close to happiness and apprehensiveness. Rose squealed at the familiar name, her eyes wide in joy.

"Jack!" She threw herself out of the TARDIS, jumping on the man in a large hug. He caught her – just barely – stumbling backwards a tiny bit, his foot falling back to catch himself, the teenage boy behind him moving off to the side a freaked out look covering his angelic face.

Blaine was content standing where he was, but the Doctor insisted on him coming out, tugging insistingly on his sleeve until he had fully exited the police box. Which he was still trying to make sense of. His head started spinning the moment his foot hit the concrete floor in the garage. He stumbled, his face flushing. Black spots began to cloud over his vision. "Whoa there." The American, male voice said from somewhere to his right, a hand clamping over his arm. "Kurt, get him some water." Kurt? Who was Kurt? Blaine raised his head from where it was slumped against his knees and gazed around the room, watching with hooded eyes as the angelic boy stared at him with wide eyes. "Kurt!" The handsome American – Jack – snapped. The boy blinked and scrambled into action, and, promptly, Blaine's world turned dark.

* * *

><p>If Kurt was to be completely honest he wouldn't have been able to tell anyone why he had gone to Jack of all people for help in this situation. He wouldn't have been able to explain to anyone why his father was off besides the rather crippling fact that it <em>wasn't his father<em>. He wouldn't have been able to reassure everyone that, no a random telephone booth did not just randomly appear in his family's garage. He frowned, shoving a cup rather forcefully under to faucet, suddenly grateful that he had convinced his father to fix the pipes a few years back. His father... He drew in a shaky breath, retracing his hand and re-entering the garage with a false sense of determination.

Jack had placed the curly haired boy on the row of chairs located in the waiting area. Kurt – while feeling in his vulnerable state – had, of course, taken the time to observe all three of the new visitors (and their telephone booth) with a numb mind. No way in Gaga did he know what was going on, but he wasn't about to let anything get passed his game face. Or his diva attitude as Mercedes would have pointed out loudly. "You okay there?" For a moment he wondered if Jack was talking to him, only to notice that, no, the curly haired boy (he really needed to do something with that mess) was actually awake, just simply immensely pale. His tan arm was slung over his face, hiding it from the view of everyone in the room. A shaking nod and Jack smiled slightly, patting the boy's arm and leaving him in Kurt's care as he wandered off to talk to the two British "adults".

He stared vacantly at the door leading into his father's office. **Burt Hummel, Owner** was painted on the glass door in a seemingly mocking manner at the moment. He remembered sitting on his father's desk when he was younger, playing with his Barbie's hair as his father rambled on the phone about something or other. He shook his head as his eyes began to water again, his hand rubbing against them in an effort to quell the tears. He sucked in a shaking breath, turning back to the pale boy laid out on the chairs. "Hi." He said simply, his voice quiet.

The boy's arm muffled his voice a little, but when it came out it sounded pained. "Hi." He croaked out, his arm slowly lowering to reveal bright hazel eyes. Kurt silently handed over the cup of water, wincing as the boy pushed himself up with a level of discomfort.

Kurt bit his lip lightly, the hair wasn't so bad. He actually found himself appreciating it (among other things). He mentally scolded himself. Now was not the time to be checking someone out. "I'm Kurt." He tried to steer the conversation to something he could handle.

The hazel eyes surveyed him, before a small smile tugged at the other boy's lips. "Blaine." _Blaine._ The name did funny things to his stomach. He found himself letting a small smile tug at his own lips before he realized that he wasn't supposed to be smiling just yet. He picked at his sweater with a frown and shimmering eyes as his throat got choked up as he remembered his father's parting words and actions. "Why are you so sad?" He seemed to regret saying it the moment it passed his lips. The handsome boy (when had he began referring to him as handsome?) blushed a bit, his pale cheeks regaining some color. Laughter almost bubbled up from Kurt's chest before he remembered what exactly had been asked. "I-I mean you-you don't have to tell me. It's just you look really sad and..." He trailed off as Kurt raised any eyebrow at him. "Sorry." He muttered, looking down at the half full cup of water.

He felt some need to reassure the boy –_ Blaine_ – that it was okay, that he wasn't angry with him. Even if he did think that it wasn't any of his business exactly _why_ he was sad. But there was this small part of him that wanted to tell him. There was this small part of him that tugged when he looked at him, telling Kurt that he should tell him. That this Blaine boy that he _just met_ would be able to help in some unimaginable way. "My-I..." He closed his eyes, falling into the seat directly across from this Blaine boy and drew in a breath. "My dad... I don't know what happened. But he was fine yesterday – he was perfect really... we were the closest that we had ever been – and today he..." That was the cue for his eyes to start watering again. He tried to blink them away, goodness he had been crying all day long!

A tan hand cautiously placed itself on top of his pale one. Concerned hazel eyes gazed at him, nudging him to carry on. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that, yes, a boy was willingly holding his hand. "He just wasn't himself." He shook his head as a few tears trickled down his cheek. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but he found himself physically incapable of removing his hand from under Blaine's tanned one.

"How so?" Blaine asked softly, turning to face Kurt fully on the uncomfortable waiting chairs he had been settled against.

Kurt gazed at him, noticing the faint stubble and the even fainter bruising along his jaw. Make-up. Cover up. Whatever. Kurt had seen it before one too many times on himself. He frowned slightly before answering the stranger's question. "I-I don't know. He... he just... he wasn't him. He wasn't my dad." He breathed in a shuddering breath as he remembered his father's words from earlier. _Where is she? Where is my wife? What have you done to her?_ "It was almost as if he didn't know who I was." A few more tears pulled themselves down his cheeks and he was holding back from outright sobbing in front of this stranger. That just wouldn't be right. He shouldn't just dump these problems on someone he had just met! "And no one believes me!"

"I do." The words were spoken with such assurance and sincerity that Kurt had to raise his eyes to look at the handsome teenager before him. Blaine's mouth was set into a firm line and his hazel eyes held some sort of determination that Kurt had never seen before from anyone _but_ his father at times like when he wasn't allowed to try out for the "Defying Gravity" solo. The boy's hand grasped his tighter as Kurt stared at this anomaly in front of him with wonder. "I believe you, Kurt." Suddenly he felt as though a rather large load had been lifted from his shoulders. A small smile crossed over his face.

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't know what made him believe the broken boy in front of him, but Kurt had looked so sad. And he had seemed immensely sincere, and something had told Blaine that the boy in front of him would not be lying to him anytime soon. He smiled back at the boy, noticing how a few choice words caused his face to literally brighten and his shoulders to relax. "What about you?" Kurt's voice may have been higher than he expected but it seemed like music to Blaine's ears.<p>

"What about me?" He asked in confusion. He was happy just staring at the small smile over the other boy's face for the time being.

"Why did you pass out?" Kurt's voice held a tiny teasing edge to it, but, mostly, there was curiosity. And maybe worry. But Blaine wouldn't have expected worry so soon after they had just met.

How could he possibly explain this dream to Kurt? It was confusing enough as it was not thinking about it. "It's bigger inside." He said slowly, his eyes straying to the 1950's style police box.

"What?" Kurt's voice held confusion as his eyes followed Blaine's so that both pairs were trained onto the blue box. "It's a telephone booth... how can it be bigger inside?"

Blaine shrugged slowly. "How can any of this be happening?" He choked out a laugh, hopelessness shining in his voice. The boy in front of him frowned again and his blue eyes sparkled in question at him. "I don't even know what's going on." He leaned his head into his empty hand, exhaustion leaking through every movement he made. The boy who's hand he was currently holding didn't bother saying anything, the silence enough for both of them.

"I'm Diana Lintroe with a breaking news report." The small television in the corner of the garage broke in through the silence the two teenagers had become accustomed to as the "adults" continued to mutter things that the two couldn't make out. "I'm here at Dalton Academy for Boys in Westerville, Ohio where Senator Frank Anderson's son was kidnapped in the middle of the school day." Blaine shot to his feet, his eyes wide as he made his way towards the crinkling television report. A woman stood in front of the familiar image of Dalton Academy gesturing at the school behind her. "Police have released the information that Senator Anderson's son had been seen running through the school hallways accompanied by this man and this woman." A blown up picture of the Doctor and Rose flashed on the screen, blurry as it was due to the speed that it had been taken. He briefly thought about how it must have been taken from one of the school's security cameras before the image changed. "They are urging that any member of the public call them if they have any information on the case." The screen had shifted back to the newsroom where two reporters were looking up at the camera with fake worry.

"The Senator's son is currently sixteen years old." A picture – a picture from last Christmas at his grandmother's house – flashed on the screen. He flushed at the absurdity of the entire situation. Numbly he noticed that the garage had gone completely silent (and that he was still holding Kurt's hand) and that the "adults" had made their way over to him. "Please if anyone has any information..." The rest was tuned out from his mind as he scrambled to make sense of what he had just seen.

"I-is that even possible?" He asked the Doctor in a rushed anger and panic. The man stared at him with wide eyes, shock evident on his face. "I-It hasn't even been an hour..."

"TARDIS." The Doctor said simply in a way of explanation. Rose had a trembling hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and staring at him.

Kurt squeezed his hand (and so what if his mind was still thinking something along the lines of oh-my-goodness-we-are-still-holding-hands!) before taking it out of his grasp. He suddenly felt more out of it than he had been before. "I don't give a _shit_ about your 1950s police box!" He snapped suddenly. Swearing wasn't his thing, but when he got stressed out enough...

"You knew that?" The Doctor asked excitedly, practically bouncing on his heals.

"Listen." Jack, trying to be the voice of reason, spoke up after a moment of tense silence. "This all happened yesterday. That news report about you going missing? You went missing _yesterday_."

"What?" Blaine snapped. Kurt flinched at the anger in his voice. Something in his stomach churned and he instantly wanted to apologize. But, he was too close to freaking out and the room was starting to spin again and he was pretty sure that he just might pass out again. Which wouldn't be good but he was definitely beginning to feel creeping up on him.

Jack held out his hands in front of him, trying to calm him as though he were trying to calm down a caged animal, but it was Rose who talked. "It's a time machine. Remember?"

* * *

><p><strong>A:<strong> N- I was going to write more but I kept losing inspiration and I felt bad for not posting this in the first place. So... not much plot in this chapter and no Brittana but they will be in next chapter (once I figure out how to put them into the story). Anyway, did you guys SEE the Somewhere Only We Know performance? It was AWESOME! And it is one of the best birthday presents I have ever gotten! Along with the reviews I will hopefully get. Thank you all so much! 3


	4. Chapter 4

Of Doctors, Aliens, and Music

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who I'd be older. If I owned Torchwood I'd be richer. And if I owned Glee I wouldn't be on here. If I owned (or was a part of) Simple Plan I would... suddenly have switched genders.

Summary: Torchwood may be practically dead, but that doesn't mean that the aliens have stopped their descent on Earth. Jack's hiding in a small Ohio town, working at a local garage. The Doctor's randomly transported to a boarding school. Kurt's trying to get through his sophomore year of high school. Blaine's trying to get used to Dalton. Santana's trying to sort out her feelings. Brittany's trying to understand life. And then something goes wrong and they are forced to come together to figure out how to fix it. Something's may be more permanent than others.

**A**: N – I didn't forget about this story I promise! My computer is currently been out of commission for around a month and is in surgery at the moment. Meaning: my computer geek of a cousin is trying to fix it. So… I'm typing this up on my parent's computer in between work for my finals. Anyway, I am SO SUPER SORRY THAT I COULDN'T UPDATE SOONER!

* * *

><p>"…<em>I'm a nightmare, a disaster<br>That's what they always said…"_

* * *

><p>Santana sighed, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor before her. Brittany was changing, yet again, in her bathroom because she simply couldn't decide whether she wanted to wear her Cheerios uniform or the outfit Charity picked out for her that morning. Or something to that effect. It might have been the pair of monkeys that live underneath her bed this time. She rolled her brown eyes with a fond smile covering her face. She ran her tanned hand through her hair, shaking it to the point of being "just-sexed-up-messy". Her white sneaker scuffed against the brown carpet. "Hurry up Britt. The movie starts soon."<p>

"Coming San!" The blonde's perky voice cut through the wooden door with the certain pep it usually had. She flung open the door, revealing her bright blue and yellow outfit with flair. "Penelope has good taste." Brittany noted with a large smile as she linked her pinkie with Santana's and shuffled out the door, the Latina reaching back to lock it.

"Penelope?" Santana wondered briefly before writing it off as yet another thing that could only be defined as Brittany. A police siren blared from their left, lights flashing harshly against the bright sunlight of midday. Brittany hummed and plopped down in Santana's old, beat up Ford that her father had gotten her as a late birthday present the year before, Santana sliding into the driver's seat with an elegance that many would hope endlessly for. "Wonder what's going on there…" She commented lightly, drawing the blonde girl's attention onto the scene five houses down.

Brittany shrugged uselessly. "Penelope." She nodded as though that confirmed everything and the Latina couldn't find it in her to really care about what was going on at the big town house. An old lady had probably fallen and broken her hip or something to that effect. They lived in Lima, Ohio for goodness sakes! It was big news if the Mayor learned how to tie shoes. Nothing remotely interesting ever happened there.

The cruising beat from the radio silenced all the potential conservation. Santana tapped against the steering wheel in time with the fast beat. Turning onto the main road leading into the center of town she nearly crashed into a precariously placed Lincoln Navigator parked on the side of the road. Or it was supposed to be. Cursing under her breath she slammed on the breaks, thanking the lord when her Ford stopped right before pinging against the shinny black metal. "Shitting hell!" She shrieked when the car pulled to a stop. "Could they park anymore in the road?" She expected some sort of confirmation that she had been heard.

But Brittany's eyes were close to bugging out of her head. The blue eyes quivered against her lightly tanned face, her blonde hair falling out of the messy bun that held the rest of it out of her face. "San!"

She slammed on her breaks again, swearing as the car behind her beeped loudly and passed her with a raised middle finger and plenty of words that shouldn't have been said around the child in their back seat. "What?"

"San! It's Kurt's car!" Brittany's kind eyes still held a panic that was causing Santana's adrenaline to rise to unhealthy proportions.

"So?" Hummel? Seriously this whole thing was about Hummel? And didn't his father own a car shop or something? Santana mentally glared at the flamboyant boy, remembering how he had known how to drive better than half the people in the United States by the time he was twelve.

"The police were at his house San and this is his car!" Brittany pounded against her door, leaning heavily against the frame as though hoping to exit the car faster than a rabbit could hide from a threat. "San pull over!"

And, weirdly enough, the panicked look in Brittany's eyes was reason enough for Santana to listen to her and pull over. Her car banged against the curb and she rushed to turn off the engine and grab her keys before Brittany had pushed open her car door. In time with the blonde, Santana threw open her door, rushing around to the other side to meet up with Brittany who was already pushing her way through the parking lot of a garage. Hummel's father's garage. Santana swallowed at the looming building before her. Brittany was most definitely overreacting and she would have to explain to Mister Hummel exactly why her best friend had freaked out so much. And even she didn't think she could do that. Not this time. Santana honestly had no idea why Brittany had freaked out the way she had. "Kurty!" Brittany had opened the doors leading into the garage and ran through them before Santana was even halfway across the parking lot.

Cursing once again she sped up, rushing in after her just as a car door slammed somewhere to her left. She didn't pay it any mind, worrying silently about the reaction Brittany was going to get. But, instead of a confused looking Burt Hummel with his son somewhere off to the side flipping through a fashion magazine or something other completely Kurt Hummel she was met with the sight of Brittany hugging Hummel tightly to her chest. Jealously churned through her gut at the thought of Brittany hugging him and not her like that. Shaking her head she forced herself to ignore all thoughts surrounding the weird feelings Brittany gave her and instead focused on the people around her.

The hot mechanic that she had met a few times when her Ford was having problems was standing in a protective position staring at her in what seemed like open hostility. She shifted, her brown eyes falling on his name tag. _Jack_ was written in a standard car shop cursive. A small smile tugged at her lips: Jack-The-Hot-Mechanic.

A horribly eccentric looking older man (well the same age as Jack it looked like) stood next to Jack-The-Hot-Mechanic with a worried frown and a messed up looking screw driver clenched in his sweating palm. Santana's brown eyes glittered at the sight of his messy converse. She loved converse.

A blonde girl that certainly wasn't Brittany was standing with her arms crossed over her chest in what was supposed to be an intimidating manner. Santana raised an eyebrow at her, smirking as the woman dropped her gaze.

Then there was a boy who looked… well Santana felt some sort of recognition prickle up her spine when she looked at him. His curly hair fell passed his ears, covering his eyes from view but she was almost positive that she had seen him before. Santana frowned, opening her mouth to say something to him before Hummel cut her off. "What are you two doing here?" His voice wavered a bit on the last few words, but his face kept a stubborn expression of stern frustration. Almost one that a parent would wear.

Santana raised an eyebrow at him. "There were police at your house Kurty!" Brittany spoke fast, her arms still clenched tightly around his waist in a vice like grip. He winced, reaching back to unlock her arms gently.

"Britt…"

"And you parked so horribly I thought Finnessa stole your car." Santana noted dryly, ignoring the looks that were shot at her as she examined her nails in an uncaring manner.

Hummel stared at her for a good moment and she resisted the urge to shift her footing self-consciously. "So you were worried?"

"Yes!"

"No." If it was possible Santana spoke even drier than before. Her brown eyes rose to meet his blue-green-grey orbs. "Brittany was going to jump out of the door if I didn't pull over to check if you were okay."

Hummel rolled his eyes at her, a tiny smile pulling at the side of his mouth. "Thanks." He noted softly, leaning into Brittany's never relenting hug, his eyes shifting to the curly haired mess beside him in what seemed like concern.

The entrance banged against the wall with a surprising amount of force. Everyone jumped but the man with the screwdriver. The curly haired boy raised his head and Santana noted with a wry sense of sympathy that tears had welled in his eyes. How long had he been fighting to keep them from showing, she wondered.

"They're here." The man with the screwdriver had a British accent that almost sent Santana reeling. British people were in Lima, Ohio? What the hell?

"Who's here?" She asked slowly, edging closer and closer to the group in front of the television.

"Grimers." Jack-The-Hot-Mechanic said as a sort of explanation.

"Is that someone's last name or something?" She asked in a sort of panic. But Santana wasn't panicking. No… Santana didn't panic. Not over something like this.

"Or something." The other blonde girl that wasn't Brittany said from the screwdriver man's side. She was British too. Was there some sort of convention?

"Run." The screwdriver man said simply, pushing the curly haired boy out of the way. "Split up. Confuse them."

"Wh-what?" The boy squeaked, his hazel eyes wide.

The screwdriver man shook his head, his hand flying up to his hair and musing it more than it already was. "Go with…" He gestured frantically towards Santana with a question on his face.

"Santana." Hummel provided for her. She glared at him. She could have given him her own name.

"Santana. I'm the Doctor by the way." He smiled at her and Santana felt another eyebrow rise in blatant confusion. Because, seriously? They were being attacked or something and he was smiling at her as though he was the most pleasant person in the world? "Go with Santana, Blair."

"Blaine." The boy automatically corrected in time with both Hummel and the blonde-girl-that-wasn't-Brittany.

"Exactly." The man smiled at the curly haired boy (Blaine she guessed his name was). "Kurt you go with… that girl in your arms."

Hummel looked confused before nodding and prying Brittany away from him so that they were holding hands. Santana noticed how Blaine seemed to squirm when he noticed the action. She almost cared enough to wonder why. "Jack… you're with me and Rose." Why exactly did the adults go together? That made no sense in Santana's mind. "Okay… run. _Now_."

* * *

><p>Kurt hid behind the wheel of an old Mercedes (he ignored the irony) with Brittany as the garage was overcome with small shrieks of things that didn't sound even remotely like humans. "Kurty." Brittany tugged on his sleeve. "Kurty what are these things?"<p>

"Grims or something like that." He spoke softly, holding her hand gently in his sweaty palm. Which may have been more disgusting if hers wasn't sweating too, and if he wasn't scared for his life.

"What do they do, Kurty?" Brittany asked again, her wide blue eyes staring up at him in question. He was reminded, once again, of the child she was half the time.

Kurt shook his head uselessly. "I don't know, boo."

A box from the shelf across from them clanged to the floor as the shrieks got increasingly higher. Risking a peak Kurt was met with the face of an older looking man with a black suit on. His eyes shinned gold and Kurt forced himself to swallow, his eyes staring widely at the man in front of him. The man opened his mouth and a swarm of yellow smoke emitted from his throat as another shriek tugged its way out of his mouth. Kurt almost let out one of his own before his head ducked back behind the car.

"Kurty…" Brittany's voice was shaking in fear, much like Kurt's body. "What do we do?" The man crept closer to them, his feet barely making any noise against the floor of his father's garage.

* * *

><p>Santana's hand flew out and pulled Blaine back behind the desk in Mister Hummel's office. The door was opening just as Blaine had stuck his head out to see whether they were alone or not. A magnitude of shrieks broke the barrier they had crafted, both of the singers cowering down and covering their ears. "What do we do?" Santana hissed at him, as her hands shook against her ears. And she most definitely was not scared.<p>

Blaine forced a swallow down his parched throat, his hazel eyes shining in a fear that Santana wasn't about to allow herself to show. "I don't know."

"Well what do they do?" She shifted closer to him so that she was close enough to kiss him. If she felt anything for him in that way and, while he proved to be rather good looking, Santana wasn't really in the mood to do anything with him besides surviving. And even that was iffy at the moment. She would rather be surviving with Brittany and she was pretty sure he'd rather be surviving with Hummel.

Blaine shut his eyes as another one of those things stepped even closer to their hide out, letting out another high pitched shriek. "They do something with salt."

"With salt?" She stared at him in disbelief.

"Yes!" He jumped as hands slammed down onto the desk top and the face of David Hughes smiled cruelly down at him. The head tilted to the side and his eyes shined in an ungodly shade of yellow. His mouth opened as his head tilted to the other side, a yellow mist flying from it as another shriek erupted from his mouth.

"_What the fuck_?" Santana scrambled backwards, her hand flying out to grab one of Blaine's before she kicked hard at the desk in front of her, hoping that the dark skinned atrocity before her would lodge itself in the wall.

The two teenagers pressed themselves tightly against the wall behind them, both their hands sweating and hearts pounding with adrenaline and blind fear as the creature climbed onto the desk and let out another shriek. Blaine's eyes fell onto the water bottle standing to his left as thoughts flew through his mind. "Water." He whispered as Chemistry floated into his head.

"What?" Santana snapped at him, pulling him sharply back to his side as he started making his way towards the tower of water.

"The positive and negative charges of water dissolve salt. These things live off salt. They are practically all salt." He rambled as he pulled himself back towards the water bottle. David let out another ungodly shriek more of the yellow mist flowing towards them from his mouth. Santana coughed.

"And?"

"Water!" Blaine gave a final tug, their hands separating and diving towards the water bottle. Screwing the cap open he flung it in the direction of David as the teenager scrambled to approach him. Santana let out a scream that she would later deny ever left her lips as the water connected with the boy's face.

For a moment the room was silent before positively agonizing screams erupted from his mouth as his face steamed before he collapsed to the ground in a heap, black smoke leaving his body and falling into a pile on the ground, turning into a pile of white salt.

* * *

><p>By the time all the Grimers were gotten rid of there was around ten piles of salt in random areas of Hummel Tires and Lube. Kurt wasn't looking forward to cleaning them up, but he wasn't looking forward to anything but climbing into his father's bed at home and taking comfort in his mother's old dresser. Tears prickled his eyes at the reminder of what happened earlier in the day. "Well… I guess it's time for you to go home." The Doctor pushed himself up from a salt pile, smiling brightly at Jack and Blaine. The curly haired boy was slumped in a chair next to Santana, the two of them looking closer than Kurt would have expected. He plopped down in the open chair beside him, allowing his head to fall onto Blaine's soft shoulder.<p>

He didn't know what it was about the elder boy, but something about him seemed to urge Kurt to trust him. "Home or school?" The dark skinned boy (who Kurt later learned was named David) asked from his spot in the doorway, as far away from all of them as he could get without leaving the shop completely.

"Home." The Doctor paused, thinking to himself. Rose shifted her footing from beside the TARDIS-police-box-phone-booth-thing. "Well… school." He thought for a moment longer. "Is home school or school home?"

The group around him blinked in confusion at the man before they all shook their head. Brittany smiled brightly up at him, leaning back so that her body rested against Santana's knees. Blaine glanced at him, his hand falling gently onto Kurt's knee. "How are we going to deal with the whole… missing child thing?" He waved his other hand in the direction of the television with barely restrained exhaustion. Kurt knew exactly how he felt.

"That's where I saw you!" Santana turned in her seat, her brown eyes wide. "You're Senator Anderson's son!" Blaine nodded almost miserably. "And you…" She pointed at the Doctor and Rose. "You… kidnapped him…?" The garage fell silent as she thought through what had happened and slumped back into her chair.

"According to the news." Jack smiled briefly at her, before his gaze fell onto Blaine and Kurt. Something a kin to pain flashed in them before they gained an almost happy edge to them. "Just tell them that you were kidnapped by a man and woman, you don't know what they wanted, but once they saw the news got scared enough to release you. Don't mention anyone or anything else. Nothing that happened here leaves this room." Jack looked back at the Doctor. "You sure you don't want me to RETCON them?"

"Retcon?" Kurt asked curiously before deciding that he didn't really want to know. "Never mind." He spoke quickly, turning his face into Blaine's shoulder before pushing himself up into a seated position. "I guess this is goodbye." He spoke softly, his eyes falling onto the short boy's face for a moment before he blushed and looked down at his knees.

"I guess…." Blaine spoke just as softly before he perked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Can I get your number?"

A slow smile covered Kurt's face too, before he scrambled to write the number on a piece of paper that had been on his father's desk. His father…. "I hope everything turns out okay with your dad." Blaine whispered, his hand falling onto Kurt's back. "Tell me if anything changes."

Kurt sighed, his eyes bearing into Blaine's hazel orbs as tears welled unwelcome behind his own blue-gray-green ones. He swallowed, his eyes pulling away from the understanding ones before him and, instead, looking to the ground. Scuff marks were painted on the sparkling linoleum, reminding Kurt of what had happened a few hours before. "I will." Kurt's eyes rose to meet Blaine's again. They forced smiles at one another, tension that Kurt didn't remember being there any moment in the day when they had met.

"So… how are we getting back to school?" David spoke up from his spot in the doorway, effectively breaking the tension that had been flooding from Kurt and Blaine.

"The TARDIS." The Doctor opened the telephone booth-police box-thing with a flourish and wide smile.

Kurt's eyes met Blaine's again. "I'll text you." Blaine spoke almost silently, his hand reaching out to touch Kurt's arm for a moment longer than was necessary before he blushed and pulled himself away from the younger male. He shuffled towards the blue box behind a reluctant David, glancing backwards every ten or so steps to look back at Kurt and Santana. The Latina waved a hand in goodbye, as did Brittany before he fully entered the blue box, turning back one last time with his hand raised in an almost regretful goodbye to Kurt. Kurt, himself, couldn't help a small smile tugging at his lips due to the view of Blaine's blushing face.

He sighed, turning back towards Jack and the girls, hastily forcing his tears backwards. For some reason it didn't feel even close to goodbye.

* * *

><p>The consoles inside the TARDIS beeped mercilessly as the Doctor went about his business. Blaine's stomach dropped once more into his stomach and he shifted so that his back was pressed against the wall. David's hands gripped onto the railing so tight that his knuckles were painted with a hue of unnatural white. "Blair." The Doctor piped up, a hint of mischief in his eyes as Blaine raised a simple eyebrow and muttered 'Blaine' under his breath at the exact moment Rose spoke it loudly. "What do you say to traveling with us?"<p>

"What?" Rose questioned in apparent shock. The Doctor winked at her.

"Travel?" Blaine's voice held the same shock that had come from Rose's question.

David swallowed audibly, the Doctor's hand patting him on the back slightly as he walked by, standing so that his hands were clasped over Blaine's shoulders. "Travel with us. Rose and I. See the stars. Places you've never seen before! Places you couldn't even dream of!"

The Dalton boy blinked in shock before tearing his eyes away from the Doctor's. Rose stared back at him when his eyes met hers. Rejection shinned brighter than it ever had before and Blaine felt, suddenly, as though he was back at his old school. Back at Westerville High where the ones who used to be his friends sent him looks of rejection and disgust the moment Amiee had forced him out of the closet. He shuffled away from her gaze, attempting to move even farther so that his back hit the door, but the Doctor's grip kept him in place so that he had to look the man in the eyes. "Can-Can I think about it?" The Doctor's smile disappeared before reappearing in a matter of a second.

"Of course." He pulled Blaine into his arms for a brief hug before scrambling back towards to the console. "And welcome back to Dalton Academy."

* * *

><p>Santana's Ford pulled into her driveway, her head falling onto her crossed arms against the leather steering wheel. Her eyes rose to stare openly at her house. She was insane. That much Santana was sure of. She sighed, pushing open her car door and making her way towards her doorway. "You're insane San. You've been hanging out with Britt way too much." She muttered under her breath.<p>

"Hello!" A man's voice spoke to her right, pulling her attention towards the yard next to hers. A handsome man waved frantically. "I'm Tim! You must be Santana." Wonder and worry fluttered in her stomach at the thought. He seemed to sense her paranoid fear. "Your father adores you. Anyway, I'm your new neighbor." He smiled lightly at her in a way that was meant to be charming.

Santana shook his hand in a tight grip before making her excuses and going into her house. But she couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes were following her way, her gaze never once leaving pathway before her. She simply had had enough weird happenings around her than was needed for the day.

With a click the door fell shut behind her.

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><p><strong>A<strong>: N – So… a pretty sucky chapter but it's something, yeah? Once again I apologize for not updating sooner and I will work to get the next one up soon. I mean, we all want to know exactly what happened to Burt right? Thanks everyone for the reviews!


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